Page 7 of Evil Boys


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“Is that what those other girls screamed?” I retort, twisting his hand some more.

“No, please, they wanted it—”

“They were kids!” I hiss.

He sinks onto the floor, groaning in pain.

I grip his hair and pull back, pointing the knife at his face. “You thought I was one of them, didn’t you? Young, innocent, easy to use.” My lip hitches up into a tentative smile. “I blend in easy, don’t you think?”

“You … you trapped me?” He coughs up a tooth and spits it out onto the floor.

“I lured you into your own fucking trap,” I retort, the knife glinting in my hand.

“Please, don’t do this, I’ll give you anything you want.” His eyes flick back and forth between me and the knife.

“I don’t want your money,” I reply.

“Then what do you want?” he yelps. “Take it, anything I have.”

“I don’t want anything but your fucking life.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he begs as I inch closer with the knife. “Are you a cop?”

I snort. “Worse.”

I jam my knife straight into his abdomen.

He gurgles up blood. “Oh God! Please! Who are you?!” he cries out. “Have mercy!”

But I ignore his pleas and shove another knife straight into his neck.

He gurgles, and a single tear rolls down his cheek.

“I’m retribution.”

I tear out the knife, and blood spurts out as the body falls to the floor.

Now this … this is ecstasy.

Nothing compares to the sounds of perverts dying a painful death.

I wipe the knife on his couch and tuck it into my bag.

CRACK!

My ears perk up, and I stop moving entirely. Whispers from the hallway near the front door have me on edge.

Someone’s here.

Another victim he tried to lure with his disgusting chats?

I swiftly grab my bag and put everything back inside, then make my way to the back of the house. There’s no way out, no other door outside, just rooms and more rooms. One of them is covered in mattresses, ropes and all, and the view makes me sick to my stomach.

I close the door and head into another. A bathroom with blood stains on the sink, but it’ll have to do.

Beyond the room, I can hear more rustling, more footsteps. One, two, three? I don’t know how many different ones, I can’t keep them apart. But it’s more than one person. And they’re definitely guys.

The sound of laughter comes to an abrupt halt.

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